Intuition
by DetectiveInspectorSydney
Summary: How Albus met Fawkes.


Albus Dumbledore was standing in his office staring intermittently out the window, and back at his immense bookshelf. Term was ending soon, and there was snow on the ground, but even still, a few students were braving the cold during their break time for some well deserved fresh air.

Among these students, Albus noted the bright, wavy hair of Gilderoy Lockhart. Without the hair, he was still hard to miss because he was brandishing his wand carelessly in the direction of the black like, and hopping up and down. It was quite a good imitation of court jester. Hardly anyone seemed to be paying attention to the boy, which was probably for the best. Sighing, Dumbledore returned to the shelf he was currently perusing. He was searching for a very old piece of parchment. It was a clipping from the Daily Prophet circa 1925. He had been a Transfiguration professor when he'd opened the paper one morning, and discovered a small blurb buried amongst numerous articles. Something about it had made him...almost uneasy, and so he'd cut it out, and tucked it away for safe keeping. It had remained in his office on the first floor, until he had taken over for Armando some years ago. With all of the new books and papers he had acquired in the ensuing decades, he was certain he had buried it right about - ah - there it was. He picked it up, and walked back over to his desk to reread it.

"Mr. Garrick Ollivander of Ollivander's Wand Shop, reports unheard of phenomenon. A phoenix from whom he was hoping to procure a tailfeather for a wand core, has volunteered not one, but two feathers. Said Mr. Ollivander, "It is an absolute mystery. Never have I heard of anything like this happening in the history of wand making. I can only expect that there is something special about this phoenix, and the two wands his feathers will create."

The article finished with a debrief about the complexities of wandlore and wandmaking, and that the craft is shrouded in mystery by necessity etc.

Albus' mind was racing back and forth between three distinct memories: leaving Harry Potter with Petunia and Vernon Dursley not three months ago, Sybill Trelwaney's completely surprising prophecy, and a letter he received in August of 1937 from an eleven year old Tom Riddle informing him, among other things, that his wand was a thirteen and a half inch yew wand with a phoenix feather core.

Still clutching the newspaper clipping in his hand, he swiftly made his way out his office, not even stopping to grab his traveling cloak, despite the frigid temperatures.

He passed no one on his way through the castle. As he strode out across the grounds, he noted Gilderoy Lockhart, hopping about, now quite alone now.

"Mr. Lockhart." The boy turned toward him in surprise. They had hardly spoken to each other in the 6 years he'd been a student.

"Yes Professor." Albus was grateful the boy kept his sentence short.

"Please go and inform Professor McGonagall that I have had to leave on urgent business, and will notify her when I return." Sparing no further time on the Ravenclaw, Albus strode off, impervious to Lockhart's shouts after him.

Once he reached the gates, he disaparated, landing deftly in an unoccupied alley near the Leaky Cauldron. He quickly made his way into the pub, didn't stop to speak to anyone, and was in Diagon Alley within minutes. He nodded a few familiar faces, ignored the gawkers, and tread up the street with a single-minded intensity. When he opened the door to Ollivander's, he was relieved to find it empty.

"Garrick?" he called. A couple of thumps later, and Garrick Ollivander emerged from behind the counter.

"Albus Dumbledore. Hawthorn, 14 in., dragon heart string." He said all of this warmly, and easily, as if it were the average way one would greet any acquaintance.

"Garrick, 56 years ago you gave an interview with the Daily Prophet, in which you informed them that you had procured two tail feathers from a single phoenix." Ollivander, who had not been moving, became terribly still. "I believe that one of those tail feathers became the core for a wand that you sold 44 years ago to a boy named Tom Riddle, more commonly known today as Lord Voldemort." Ollivander became pale, and began to stammer, but Albus held up his hand. "I am not here to accuse or judge you. I will never speak of this conversation to anyone if that is your wish, but I must ask you where to find that phoenix who gave you the tail feathers. I believe it will become of the utmost importance."

Dumbledore silently willed Ollivander not to ask further questions. Phoenixes were not easy to track down, thus he knew it was important that his search begin as quickly as possible, given that this could take years. He was also not certain that he could communicate even now why exactly he felt the urgency he did, and what exactly he was planning. His intuition simply told him that this was important, and he had learned a long time ago to trust that intuition.

Ollivander was thoughtful for a moment longer, most likely regaining his composure. Then he spoke.

"I have him here, in the back of the shop. I call him Fawkes. Strange fellow, he followed me home. Wouldn't take no for an answer. Come round back, you can meet him." Albus followed Ollivander through the rows and rows of crammed shelves, full to bursting with wands. There were several twists and turns, the shop stretching further back than he had imagined, till they came to a rounded teal door, and Ollivander pushed open.

It was charming, and clearly had been built as a family dwelling, though they were currently in the parlor. A muted persian rug stretched across the floor, and a few soft, well worn armchairs stood at the corners of the room. The light from the chandelier was much brighter than one would have expected. The wall nearest the door was occupied by a fairly large nest. Dumbledore wondered if the scraps were woven twigs from the logs Ollivander used for wands.

Snugly nestled within, was a brightly colored young bird, who had clearly just earned his flying feathers. Fawkes locked eyes immediately with Dumbledore, opened his mouth, and began to sing.

It was the most gorgeous sound Albus had ever heard. Fawkes stood as he sang, and flapped his wings, and rose gracefully to rest on Albus' right shoulder. His song came to a satisfying close, and then he rested his head against Albus' ear.

Ollivander was staring open mouthed at the two of them. "You'd better take him home Dumbledore. He was clearly meant to be with you."

**A/N: I am apologize that this is being turned in late. My prompts are included below, but I first wanted to make a quick note about Dumbledore's wand. On Pottermore it is listed as Elder with Thestral tail hair as the core. I am operating on the assumption that that is the Elder wand he died with. So, I made up what I assumed was the wand he bought from Ollivander's when he was eleven.**

**Prompts:**

**Chaser 2:** **Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures: Write about an encounter with a wild animal, beast, creature, etc**

**(word) imitation**

**3\. (object) newspaper**

**8\. (character) Gilderoy Lockhart**


End file.
